The Gambler
by Sting4052
Summary: The horrible hiatus for Major Crimes will soon be upon us. When the show returns, a few months from now, I most sincerely hope this is what we will see on our screens. Will these two adorkable characters finally get it together? YES, YES, YES! Now, let the smut begin. Oh, I almost forgot, thanks so much to the most awesome RockinRobinB for all that you do for me.
1. Royal Flush

Andy's nose is pressed into Sharon's hair just above her right ear. He's filling his lungs with her scent, and his mind with erotic thoughts of her. His lips graze the shell of her ear as he speaks to her in a low, hypnotic voice. "Sharon, I want you to get up from this booth, go into the ladies room and remove your panties."

Her sharp intake of breath makes him chuckle softly. He knew she would be shocked. That's exactly what he's going for ... shocking. He is tired of the slow pace of this relationship; tired of feeling like he is walking on egg shells around her, around their team, around Rusty, around Taylor. He has been more than willing to follow her lead the last three months; more than willing to do this the old-fashioned way, but it has been over 90 days since they officially started dating and enough is enough. Tonight is the night she is going to see the real Andy Flynn. It's a gamble on his part; a gamble he could lose, but he doesn't intend to lose.

"Andy, you're crazy. I'm not going to do that." Her cheeks are tinged with pink and she sounds breathless.

Andy's slightly moist lips are still lightly touching her right ear, and his left hand is softly stroking the silky skin between the bottom of her skirt and her knee under the table. As they sit side-by-side, his touch is so soft and his breath is so warm it makes her shiver. Before Andy can say another word, their waiter approaches with dessert menus. Andy doesn't even look at his menu. His eyes are glued to Sharon's face, and his hand continues stroking her leg. "I already know what I want for dessert," he says with a smirk. Sharon nervously fumbles with her menu and almost drops it.

"I'll give you some time to decide," the waiter tells her before walking away from the table. She really would like dessert, but she's having a hard time concentrating on the words in the menu. Her mind feels fuzzy, and her skin is tingling. She knows exactly what she wants, but it's not on the menu.

This intense craving for connection is not a new feeling for her; although, she can't pinpoint the exact space in time when she became aware of the longing. It has been smoldering within her for a while, but it's getting harder and harder to ignore. She hasn't always felt this way. By the time her biological children were raised, her career was well established and Jack was little more than a bad penny turning up occasionally she had no need for intimacy. She felt like that part of her life was over. Intimacy was replaced with rules, structure and order, and she was just fine with that. The walls she built around her heart protected her. The walls made her impervious to the snide comments and ugly treatment she often times endured in her employment with the LAPD. Andy Flynn has patiently been chipping away those walls, and now it seems his patience is running thin.

Setting her menu aside she slides out of the booth and tells Andy she will be right back.

"Sharon, are you okay?"

"Yes, I just need some fresh air," she answers over her shoulder as she heads for the front of the restaurant on shaky legs.

Andy instinctively stands up to follow her, but then decides to give her some space. "Damn," he thinks, "I've pushed too hard and now I've blown it."

Sharon feels drunk which is ridiculous because she only had one glass of wine with dinner. She's not totally sober, but she is far from drunk; however, she is not steady on her feet, her face is flushed and her heart is racing as fast as the thoughts in her head. It would probably be a really good idea to walk outside and just breathe for a few minutes in the evening air, but that's not what she does. She ducks into the ladies room, wets a paper towel and presses it to her neck. She feels like she's burning up from the inside out as she glances in the mirror to study her own image. The idea hits her as she is staring into her own eyes. Not giving herself a chance to change her mind, she tosses the paper towel in the trash and enters an empty stall. Is she really going to do this? Yes, she is. Reaching under her skirt, she slides her panties down and steps out of the silk with a huge smile on her face.

Andy stands as she approaches their table and asks her how she is feeling.

"I'm feeling like I want dessert," she replies with a grin on her face as she slides into the booth next to him.

"Good, because I just ordered you key lime pie," Andy says.

"That sounds delicious," she tells him as she reaches into the pocket of her blazer. He glances down just in time to see her pull the red panties from her pocket. He's confused for a few seconds, but quickly realizes she's handing him her panties. "You get panties and I get pie," she whispers in his ear. Her lips graze the shell of his ear as she speaks to him in a low, hypnotic voice. "That seems like a fair trade to me," she says with a smirk.

His sharp intake of breath makes her chuckle softly. Now it is he who is shocked. He's the one with a flushed face and racing heart. He didn't believe that she would actually do it. Andy nervously fumbles with her panties, and almost drops them before he manages to shove them in his pants pocket. "Sharon, forget dessert. Let's get out of here."

She's having way too much fun torturing him in public; she just shakes her head no and tells him she's still hungry. A soft smile lingers on her lips and he can't help but stare. It feeds the desperation he already has to part her lips with his tongue, and kiss her like there's no tomorrow. Instead, he settles for stroking her leg again, but this time he inches his index finger higher up under her skirt causing her to squirm closer to him. The waiter suddenly appears before them with one piece of pie and two forks. Andy doesn't even like key lime pie, but he takes huge bites in order to help her finish dessert quickly. Sharon is laughing so hard at him she starts to snort and that makes Andy laugh which temporarily releases the tension in the air.

"God, this woman is adorable," he's thinking while handing the waiter his credit card. She is his boss. She is his friend, and before this evening is over she will finally be his lover. This was the biggest gamble of his life, and it looks like he's going to walk away a winner.


	2. Saved by the Bell

"Do you think our waiter has disappeared with my credit card?" Andy asks Sharon.

"He's only been gone a few minutes, Andy. I know patience is not one of your many virtues, but remember that good things come to those who wait."

"Hmmm, good things. Why don't you describe some of those good things while we're waiting, Sharon."

Before she can even formulate a response the waiter has returned to their table. Andy snatches his credit card out of the man's hand, scribbles a tip and his signature and is sliding out of the booth in less than 15 seconds. He reaches into his pocket and strokes her panties while waiting for her to stand up. She is deliberately moving slowly and it's driving him crazy. He feels like sprinting to his car, but he's actually enjoying watching her saunter out of the restaurant a few feet in front of him. He has always admired her lovely legs. Even when he didn't even like her, he loved her legs. Of course, now that he knows she is naked under her skirt he is thinking about more than just her legs.

She is very aware that his eyes are on her backside. Normally, this fact would make her self-conscious, but she is beyond that now. She is enjoying every single second of this seduction. As a matter of fact, she's enjoying the sensation of no underwear. She hasn't felt this sexy in a very long time.

The parking lot is dimly lit and mostly empty. Andy reaches across Sharon to open the car door for her, but decides instead to push her up against the door and kiss the breath out of her. He's a little rough and a lot turned on. Of course, he has kissed her more than once in the last three months, but not like this. His right hand is in her hair, and his left hand is wrapped around her waist. His lips are crushing her lips. His body is crushing her body.

It takes her a few seconds to comprehend what's happening. One second she's walking to his car, and the next second he is literally pressing his body into hers; pressing his tongue between her lips; pressing his leg between her legs. Years of pent up passion is unleashed right there in the middle of the grimy parking lot. The sound of people talking and walking towards them force their lips apart, but their bodies are still touching and Sharon can feel Andy's bulge resting on her thigh. They're both breathing heavily. He takes a couple of steps back as she turns, flattens out the front of her skirt then opens the door and settles into the passenger side of his car.

They are not talking during the ride to his house. The silence is uncomfortable, and the tension from earlier in the evening is back in full force. Andy is concentrating on driving. He's grateful to be able to grip the steering wheel because his hands are still a little shaky. He glances at Sharon who has her head turned away from him looking out the passenger window. He notices that her hair is a little mussed up from his fingers. He doesn't know that she's not actually looking out the window. Her eyes are closed and she's taking deep breaths in an effort to calm down. All her doubts are creeping in. Should they really be doing this? Can she risk losing a good friend? What will happen to the team dynamic if this relationship ends badly? Is Rusty truly comfortable sharing her with Andy?

Her questions, of course, have no definitive answers and she feels ridiculous. She's sitting next to a man (she loves? desires? wants?) who has her panties in his pocket. That thought makes her shudder. She turns to Andy and touches his arm; they lock eyes for a brief moment and she realizes that they are worth the risk. She's willing to suffer the consequences because she wants him, and she knows the feeling is mutual.

They are walking up his front steps and they still haven't spoken, but he reaches for her hand and hangs on for dear life. He doesn't let go of her as he unlocks his front door and escorts her inside. He tosses his keys into a small silver bowl sitting on a table by the front door. At the restaurant he couldn't move fast enough, and now he feels like he is moving in slow motion. She pulls away from him and heads down the hall to his bedroom. She has never actually been in his room. She has only been in his house a handful of times over the years.

"It's the second door on your left," he says. His voice sounds so loud in the quiet house. She can vaguely hear a clock ticking from the living room as she turns and enters the master bedroom. It's dark, but the bedside lamp is on and there's a soft glow in the room. She's happy that there's not much light because she's all too aware that her body is not young. It's common knowledge that Andy has mostly dated younger women. Funny how that didn't seem to bother her before now. Andy senses her hesitation as he walks up behind her. Before she can turn to him his arms wrap around her middle. He bends his head down next to her ear and tells her that she is beautiful.

His hands move up her body to lightly touch her breasts over her clothes. His fingers don't stop stroking her. He continues to whisper words in her ear. "I've wanted this for a long time, Sharon. I want to be inside you. I want to feel your hair on my chest. I want your legs wrapped around me. I want to hear you say my name when I make you come."

She wants to turn around and look in his eyes, but before she can his hands open her blazer, slide it down her arms and off her body. She's wearing a low cut tank top under the blazer. He pushes her hair to the side, and attacks the back of her neck with his lips. Her neck is incredibly sensitive, and his lips are making her moan and whimper. He loves to hear these sounds, but he is also becoming aware of another sound. Is that the doorbell he's hearing? Damn, who could be ringing his doorbell at this time of night?


	3. Whispers in the Dark

_Ding-Dong  
_  
"Andy, are you going to see who is at the door?"

"Nope. I don't care who it is. They'll go away, eventually," he mumbles into the lightly-freckled skin on the back of her neck.

 _Ding-Dong_

He is molded to her back. His hands return to her breasts and he lightly pinches her nipples.

 _Ding-Dong_

She moans even louder, and her head tilts to the side as his hands begin to snake down her body.

 _Ding-Dong_

He's inching her skirt up, and his lips have moved to the junction between her neck and shoulder, just above her delicate collarbone.

 _Ding-Dong_

He manages to lift her skirt up enough to cup his hand between her legs.

 _Ding-Dong_

She is so hot and wet, and irritated because the doorbell is still ringing.

 _Ding-Dong_

"Andy, I can't focus. You have to answer the door."

He groans and reluctantly removes his hand from her center. "Okay, but you stay right here and don't move a muscle. I'll be right back."

 _Ding-Dong_

He is going to kill the person ringing his doorbell. Andy switches on the porch light, and looks through the peep hole in the door. His shoulders slump when he sees who is standing on his porch. It's Provenza with a six-pack of beer in one hand and a pizza box in the other hand. Just for the hell of it, Provenza mashes the doorbell with his elbow one more time.

 _Ding-Dong_

Andy finally yanks the door open and his buddy says, "Damn, what took you so long to let me in? The pizza is getting cold."

"Oh, you're not coming in," Andy replies as he blocks the entrance. "I don't recall inviting you over."

"Since when do I need an invitation? Patrice is out with her friends tonight, and I just thought you might like a little company." The words are barely out of Provenza's mouth when he catches a glimpse of lacy, red silk poking out of Andy's pocket. Provenza is a very observant detective, and he also notices that Andy's face is red, and the front of his pants are very tight. "Well, looks like you already have company," says Provenza with a shudder.

"You are a genius," says Andy as he reaches out and grabs the pizza box out of Provenza's hand. "Now get out of here," Andy bellows while slamming the door and turning off the porch light.

"How rude. If I fall off your porch in the dark, I'm going to sue you," Provenza shouts, "and you owe me 12 bucks for that pizza." Andy isn't even listening. He's halfway back down the hallway when he hears Provenza ring the doorbell one more time just for good measure.

 _Ding-Dong_

Andy hesitates for a second. He seriously considers opening the front door one more time, and pushing Provenza off the porch. Instead, he hustles back to the bedroom to find Sharon sitting, with her head tilted down, on the side of his bed. He can't get a good look at her face in the dim light, but her shoulders are shaking. Is she crying? He tosses the pizza box on top of his dresser, and walks over to the bed. Kneeling on the floor in front of her, he pushes her hair out of her face. He's breathless with worry.

She's not crying. She's laughing and he's instantly relieved. "I thought I told you not to move a muscle," he says. Not waiting for a reply, he sits next to her on the bed and pulls her glasses off her face. She has stopped laughing and just stares at him. He turns away from her to set her glasses on the nightstand. Now, he can kiss her properly with no obstacles in the way and, hopefully, no more interruptions.

Turning back to her he notices how soft and vulnerable her face looks without the glasses. The exact opposite of Darth Raydor. She's slightly rumpled and blinking at him in the dim light. He thinks this is probably what her face looks like when she wakes up every morning. He wouldn't know about that, but he intends to find out. Her arms wrap around his shoulders as he leans in for a kiss. The kiss is tentative at first, but within seconds his tongue invades her mouth and his hands are in her hair. Until just now, she had forgotten how much she loves to kiss a good kisser. It's not like she has had a lot of practice in recent years but one doesn't forget. It doesn't surprise her that Andy is good at this. Her tongue slides over and around his, and she wills herself not to think about other women Andy has kissed.

In reality, his sex life the past few years has mainly consisted of fantasies of her. Yeah, he's dated a few women, some more than once; however, in the long run none of them could compare to Sharon. Why have hamburger when steak is what you really want? Okay, maybe that's not the best example for a vegetarian. Anyway, he has finally learned to value quality over quantity.

They both lean back on the bed with lips still locked. His hand pushes her top up exposing her belly. She giggles into his mouth when his fingers ghost across her navel and up to her breasts. He has one hand trapped between their bodies, but his other hand is busy fingering the lace on her bra. One of her hands is also occupied rubbing the front of his pants. She can feel the outline of his erection through his clothes. Now he's moaning, and pushing his bulge into her hand. He needs more contact. He needs skin-on-skin. He rolls off her and quickly sits up. She's startled and a little confused as to why he's stopping when they've just started. Is she doing this wrong? Before her mind can take off in that direction she realizes that he's untying his shoes. It's not going smoothly for him because his fingers don't seem to be working properly. This makes her giggle again as she sits up and asks him if he could use a little help. He collapses back onto the bed and proclaims that he can use a lot of help.

She never expected him to be like this. He's funny and playful and goofy and so very endearing. She has imagined herself in this position with him hundreds of times, but in her fantasies the sex is smooth, polished and silent. This is definitely not that, but it's so them and this makes her relax. She gets off the bed, kneels down and tugs his shoes off then leans over him on the bed and slowly unbuttons each button on his dress shirt. She loves this lavender shirt. It's her favorite. Her face is so close to his, but she's not looking in his eyes. She's concentrating on the task at hand. He's staring at her fingers working the buttons when a feeling of pure love envelops him. He can feel his heart squeeze a little in his chest and it makes him swallow hard. She looks at him with questioning eyes and whispers "Andy." The expression in his eyes is one she has never seen before. He resists the temptation to close his eyes because this moment is too intense. He blinks, draws a shaky breath and whispers, "I love you."


	4. Beautiful Music

_No, no, no, no, no,_ he's thinking to himself, _shit I did not just say the L word out loud._ He feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on him. He had absolutely no intention of mentioning love this evening. It truly wasn't planned, but it just popped out of his mouth. How many times has he let his emotions get the best of him?

Sharon glances back down at his chest. She cannot look in his eyes. Her heart is beating a million miles a minute and she feels like she can't breathe. She wants to speak, but the words are stuck in her throat. Is he expecting her to tell him that she loves him too? She doesn't know what she's feeling other than confused and horny; extremely horny. They haven't spoken of love before now. She hasn't even let herself think about love because that's too complicated. Right now she just wants simple. She just wants to enjoy being with Andy. She wants to share a bagel with him while reading the newspaper on a Sunday morning; she wants to walk on the beach with him; she wants him to teach her how to make his special spaghetti sauce; she wants to see The Nutcracker for the third time with him and his family. Most of all, she wants to have sex with him right now.

As she unbuttons the last button on his shirt, he grasps both her hands in his and squeezes. She finally looks at his face and sees nothing but sorrow. He honestly looks like a little boy who has lost his puppy.

"Are we going to pretend I didn't say that?"

"Andy, I don't want to talk right now. I want to do this." She leans down and captures his mouth with hers while entwining her fingers with his. He can't talk with her tongue in his mouth. She moves in order to straddle him causing her skirt to bunch up around her thighs. Releasing her fingers from his, she splays her hands through the salt and pepper hair on his chest and her fingers begin to roam.

She is stroking his bare skin as his arms wrap around her back, pulling her as close to him as possible. His tongue dives into the depths of her warm mouth. Her naked crotch is rocking back and forth on the material of his pants. He is bucking up into her. It feels good, but naked would feel better. Ending the kiss, she stands up, unzips her skirt and lets it fall around her ankles. Carefully stepping out of it, she toes her heels off and pauses to look down at him.

Their eyes meet. She holds her index finger up to her closed lips and shakes her head no. She's silently telling him that she wants no words, just action. He's up off the bed reaching for the bottom of her top. She raises her arms over her head, and he strips the top off her to expose her bra. Dropping the tank top on the floor, he moves both hands to the sides of her breasts and lowers his head to her cleavage. He plunges his nose into the valley between her breasts and breathes deeply. She grasps his head in both hands and runs her fingers through his hair. His mouth is brushing across the swells of her breasts as he nips and sucks at her skin. "God Andy, don't stop."

He jerks his head up. There's a smirk on his face and he asks with a grin, "Oh, are we talking now?" She just groans, and attempts to push his head back down to her chest. He tells her to turn around and she complies. He unhooks her bra, pushing the straps down and off her arms.

"Like I said before, I don't want you to move a muscle," he commands.

Standing with her back to him, she can see their reflection in the mirror over the dresser. She watches him clumsily strip his clothes off. She starts to turn around and he says, "You aren't very good at following orders."

"Well, you're not my boss," she replies.

"Touche," he says as he skims his fingers over the swell of her bottom. She immediately scoots back into his palms and he kneads her flesh. She feels his erection poking the small of her back, and it's all she can do to stand still. His right arm reaches around to caress the curls between her legs. His left hand is busy teasing a nipple.

"Yessss," she moans. The sound of her voice is making him grow even harder against her. Inserting his index finger into her wetness almost makes her come apart in his arms. He wonders how long it's been since she has had a sexual partner. He would never just come right out and ask her. She's a very private person even with him. At least she has been up 'til now.

Her sex life, or lack thereof, has been the subject of much speculation within the LAPD for many years. Andy can't count the times he has heard crude remarks about her from his fellow officers. Hell, he's been guilty of it himself, a fact he's not proud of. Actually, he's not proud of a lot of things about his initial behavior towards her, but that's all in the past.

Her knees begin to shake when he rapidly strums four fingers through her center as if he's strumming a guitar. He does it again and again. The feeling is exquisite. She's expressing her pleasure with low, deep sounds resonating from the back of her throat. He thinks she's not even aware of the noise she's making. It almost sounds like music to him.

As much as she's enjoying how he's making her feel, she wants to be an active participant. Moving his hands away from her, she turns in his arms to grasp his erection. Andy's heart speeds up at the sensation of her small hand on him. She strokes the length of his thickness several times then skims the end of her finger over the sensitive tip of his penis. She glances up at his face; his head is thrown back; eyes closed and a soft smile on his lips. His face is blissful. She wants to remember what he looks like right now. This is a memory she knows she'll visit many times in the future. She just stares and strokes him until he opens his eyes and looks down at her with the same expression he had on his face when he said he loved her. No words are spoken. No words are needed.

He starts to back up, pulling her with him, until he can feel the side of the mattress then he sinks down onto the bed bringing her with him. He starts fingering her again which makes her body curl even closer into his side. The sensations his fingers are causing are almost too much for her most sensitive area. She's right on the razor thin edge of pleasure and oblivion. She opens her legs wider, and he's once again strumming her clit like a guitar. She's stroking his erection, alternating the pressure between firm and soft with her hand. His tongue is constantly moving in her mouth seeking her tongue. When he plunges a finger inside her, she gasps down deep in her throat.

That's all it takes to make him roll on top of her. He plants himself between her legs and rubs his shaft between her folds. "Fuck me," she whimpers. It's almost over right then and there. When he hears her say those words it takes every ounce of his willpower not to come. He hovers above her, drawing in deep breaths in an attempt to slow this down. He has waited way too long for this to be over now.

"I guess I'm not the only one not good at following orders," she says.

He drops his head down next to hers and does his best to suppress his laughter. She wraps her legs around his waist and this spurs him on. He tries to enter her slowly, but the feeling is so overwhelming he begins to thrust before she's really ready. She's very wet, but it has been so long for her that she is slightly uncomfortable. Not wanting to discourage him, she bites her bottom lip and wiggles under him. He pulls completely out of her and looks down at her face. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm more than okay," she answers. "It's just been a long time for me."

"I don't want to hurt you, Andy says, tell me to stop and I will."

"Don't you dare stop. Just slow down."

He resumes a slower pace and peppers kisses around her neck. Her body adjusts to his length, and she raises her legs higher around him allowing for deeper penetration. Thrusting in and out he has to force himself to think of anything other than her tight walls squeezing him. It's impossible. His mind is filled with images of her, and all he has to do is look down to see her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. He raises himself away from her and her eyes fly open. He's grabbing her legs and pulling them up to rest on his shoulders.

He can't hold back another second. At this new angle he drives deep into her and she grunts with each thrust. A drop of sweat hits her chest from above and rolls between her breasts. She is so close to climax. "Harder, Andy. Fuck me harder."

He speeds up and mutters something she can't quite understand right before he comes inside her. He doesn't pull out right away. Using short strokes and his finger on her clit she finally feels her release as her muscles spasm around him and every nerve ending in her body explodes.


	5. Hungry for Love

She's making those sexy sounds again from her throat. Andy thinks he can listen to the music she's making all night long. Unfortunately, he can't remain on top of her all night. He pushes up off her, sliding her legs off his shoulders and in the process he slides out of her body. Her eyes blink open when she senses his movement, and for just a few seconds she thinks she might cry at the loss of contact. Rolling to her side, he snakes his arm under her head and she leans into the crook of his neck. Her hair is wild. It's tickling his bare skin. He picks up a loose strand and strokes it between his thumb and index finger.

Her chest is rapidly rising up and down, and he's mesmerized by this. It takes her a few minutes to calm down. She's rubbing his shin with the ball of her foot, and not saying a word. He wonders what's going on in her head, and just when he starts to ask her what she's thinking she says, "I have to tell you something."

Here it comes he thinks. She's going to say the L word.

"I'm really hungry," she says.

That's the last thing he expected her to say. He's not disappointed; a little perplexed maybe, but never disappointed in her. "Can I interest you in a slice of free pizza?"

"Ugh, no. Provenza always orders mushrooms on his pizza and I hate mushrooms," she says.

"I had no idea," Andy says in a teasing tone. "I thought I knew everything about you."

"Oh, stop that. You can't possibly know everything about me."

"Well, I know you love weddings and angels and ballet and your kids," _and maybe me?_ he thinks, but doesn't say.

"I also love omelets without mushrooms," she tells him.

"If it's an omelet you want then it's an omelet you shall have," he says. Removing his arm from under her head, he climbs out of the bed, plucks his boxers up off the floor and heads to the bathroom. "Give me a few minutes, and then the bathroom will be all yours."

She can't help but watch him walk away in the buff. As soon as he is out of her sight she flails like a teenager in the middle of his bed. _Damn_ , she thinks, _the sex with him was so amazing_. Can this really be happening to her, at her age? Yes, yes it can. She wasn't even totally sure that she could climax with a partner. When she and Jack were first married, ages ago, she never had issues in bed; however, as the years dragged on and Jack's addictions grew, sex became a chore and eventually stopped all together. Initially, she missed it, but her children and career filled that blank space in her life just fine, until now.

In the bathroom, Andy is reacting in a similar fashion. Fantasizing about Sharon has occupied so much of his time that he can't quite grasp the fact that fantasy is now reality. He's going to screw this up. He just knows he's going to screw this up, and it will shatter him. He doesn't think he can handle seeing her almost every day at work, and not having a relationship with her. He can't watch her lean over her desk, and not think about her leaning over him in bed. He can't look at her legs, and not remember how they felt perched on his shoulders. He can't look at her hands passing him a case file, and not think about her hands on his erection. He has to make this relationship work which means he has to get his emotions under control.

 _We made a mess_ she thinks while digging through the pile of shoes and clothes they left on the floor. At the moment she's not inclined to tidy up. Instead, she grabs his shirt off the floor and puts it on. Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, she realizes that it's midnight. Where did the time go? Where did her panties go? She's momentarily confused when she can't find them on the floor, but then she remembers they are in his pants pocket. She still can't believe she made such a bold move in the restaurant earlier.

Andy walks out of the bathroom in his boxers, and notices she's wearing his shirt. It's hanging almost to her knees, and she hasn't buttoned many buttons so he's able to see most of her cleavage. He notices red marks on her chest and neck. He knows he's responsible for the marks, but he's not sorry. Hopefully, she won't be too upset when she realizes how he's marked her. He watches her retrieve her panties from his pants pocket. Before she can put them on, he reaches out and takes them from her.

"These are mine now," he tells her.

"I hate to tell you this, but I don't think they'll fit you," she says with a smirk.

"I'm not going to wear them, I'm going to keep them as a souvenir. I like souvenirs," he says remembering the beanbag he keeps in his desk drawer at work.

"What am I going to wear?"

"Nothing," he answers while walking to his dresser, pulling open a drawer and retrieving a white t-shirt. He deposits the panties in the drawer, slips on the t-shirt, and grabs the pizza box off the dresser before heading out the door to go to the kitchen.

She wants to follow him, but decides instead to go to the bathroom first. She'd love to soak in his large tub, but she's so hungry she decides to skip the soak for now. She didn't eat much dinner at the restaurant because she was so tense, and Andy devoured most of her key lime pie. She quickly cleans herself, and decides to try to tame her hair with his comb. Looking in the mirror, she immediately sees the marks on her skin. _This could be a problem_ she thinks, but at the moment she doesn't really care. As a matter of fact, she's kind of pleased to see the evidence of their wild night painted across her clavicle and cleavage. She'd like to take the time to snoop through his medicine cabinet, but that's probably not a great idea.

Walking barefoot down the hallway on her way to the kitchen, she feels a slight ache between her legs. It doesn't hurt, but she knows she'll be sore tomorrow. Well, actually it is tomorrow. Her stomach rumbles when she enters the kitchen and looks at the food Andy is preparing.

"What is that?" she asks while pointing at the mystery meat frying in the pan.

"That's faken."

"I'm not eating that," she says with a smirk.

"It's fake bacon made out of tofu. It's delicious and healthy in an omelet. It'll help you keep your strength up," he says with that sexy look in his eyes.

She can't help but laugh over his enthusiasm for mystery meat that's not meat at all.

"That hurts my feelings," he tells her. "I'm slaving over a hot stove just for you, and all you can do is stand there and laugh at me."

He looks so cute pushing the faken around in the pan with a pout on his face. She walks up behind him, wraps her arms around his middle and kisses the back of his neck.

"Keep that up and you won't get to eat until morning," he says while leering at her over his shoulder.

"Well, technically it is morning," she tells him.

"Are we having a sleep-over?" he asks.

"Yes we are, but I kind of doubt we'll be getting much sleep," she says.

"Does Rusty know you're staying with me?"

"Yes, I told him before you picked me up to go to the restaurant."

"Wow, so you were pretty sure of yourself."

"I'm usually pretty sure of myself. You know that. Besides, it wasn't much of a gamble, was it?"


	6. Spin the Bottle

"I'd say it was a very safe bet," he tells her. "Hey, why don't you help me chop some onion for the omelet?"

"Excuse me, I'm not eating onion. I plan to kiss you a lot more before the sun comes up. By the way, who taught you how to kiss?"

"Her name was Becky James, why?"

"Because I'd like to send Becky at least a dozen roses for a job well done."

Andy beams at her before removing the faken from the pan and offering her a bite. Sharon wrinkles her nose and shakes her head no with a grin on her face.

"We were in the seventh grade and Becky was madly in love with me. I was scared to death of her, but that didn't stop me from playing spin the bottle with her."

"Ooooh, that sounds romantic," quips Sharon. "I can only imagine what you were like at 13."

"I was basically a little thug, but Becky was into bad boys, and she was very experienced for a 13-year-old."

"Should I be jealous?"

"Absolutely not," he answers as he wipes his hands on a kitchen towel, and slowly approaches her with _that_ look in his eyes. "Besides, she ended up breaking my heart. You wouldn't do that, would you?"

She can't maintain eye contact with him. His eyes, his voice, his presence. It's all just too much. She feels too much. How is he doing this to her? Tears are starting to form in her eyes. She just stares at the floor and swallows hard. He tilts her chin up to look at him and is surprised to see the mist in her eyes.

"Andy, I would never hurt you, but I'm scared. I've been independent for so long. My circumstances forced me to be strong and sometimes hard on people. I don't know if I can change."

"I'm not asking you to change. I'm just asking you to give us a chance. I don't want to be your good friend. I want to be so much more than that."

She releases a breath she didn't even realize she was holding, and he's invading her space leaning his head down to her mouth. He outlines her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. She thinks he's going to kiss her so she parts her lips, but he just brushes his tongue softly across her top lip. Her hands gather handfuls of his t-shirt. He's still not properly kissing her, but her body is already responding to him.

He reaches around her and squeezes her bare bottom. She kisses him; impatiently plunging her tongue between his lips. Releasing his t-shirt, she smashes her breasts into him. Her nipples are hard and grazing the cotton of his dress shirt she's wearing. It's an odd sensation; almost painful but pleasurable at the same time. He breaks their kiss to unbutton the dress shirt. Once he has the buttons undone he doesn't bother removing the shirt from her, he roughly reaches in and fondles both breasts with his hands. He doesn't want to cause her pain, but he doesn't want to be gentle or soft or slow.

Pushing her back against the counter, he kneels in front of her, sliding his hands down from her chest and over her stomach to her center. His fingers part her open to his tongue and he takes one long swipe. She's not at all wet. It's happening too fast for that, but that doesn't concern him. He's thought about doing this too many times to stop. She's squirming and using her hands to push him back. It's not that it doesn't feel good. She's just embarrassed about being so exposed standing in his well-lit kitchen. He looks up at her and tells her he wants this. Lowering his head back down, he places his entire mouth on her and makes love to her with his tongue.

Waves of pleasure wash over her, but he begins to ease up and then suddenly stops. It's killing him not to continue, but the pain in his knees can't be ignored for another second. He's struggling to rise and his knees are cracking when she realizes what's going on, and holds her hands out to help him up off the kitchen floor.

"Damn, my knees aren't 13-years-old anymore," he says. Before she can say a word, he takes her hand and pulls her back to the bedroom. She assumes they're headed for the bed, but he walks right past the bed and into the master bathroom. "Let's take a bath together," he suggests.

"I think you need to finish what you started in the kitchen before we take a bath," she says.

"Are you really that hungry for an omelet?"

"You know I'm not talking about an omelet, Andy."

"What are you talking about Sharon? I want to hear you say it."

She rolls her eyes and just stares at him with an exasperated look on her face. "You are getting on my nerves."

"Well, that's one way to put it, but I still need to hear you tell me what you want."

"I want you to love me with your mouth."

"Oh my GAWD, has little Miss Prim and Proper been reading fan fiction?"

"Of course not and don't call me that. I'm going home. You can call Becky to take a bath with you."

Andy laughs at her. He knows she has no intention of actually leaving. Turning to her, he pushes his shirt off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. "Baby, you don't have to tell me twice."


	7. Sweet Dreams are Made of This

"Ouch," he says from between her legs. Sharon is writhing on her back, and pulling the hell out of his hair.

"Don't stop. Oh God, don't stop," she pleads.

"Then you gotta stop pulling my hair," he replies before returning his mouth to her.

She doesn't even hear him. She's too lost in her own pleasure to realize she's causing pain. With one last hard swirl of his tongue, and one last hard pull on his hair Sharon climaxes loudly.

Andy is quite proud of himself, and more than a little smug when he joins her at the head of the bed. He wants to kiss her mouth, but hesitates considering she might not like that. He doesn't have to wonder long because she kisses him deeply and sticks her hand in his boxers. Not surprisingly, he's hard and growing harder as she tenderly strokes him while catching her breath.

"You know Becky isn't the only one who is into bad boys," she purrs into his ear. "I've wanted to have a sleep over with you for a long time."

Andy reluctantly removes her hand from his crotch so he can sit up in bed and strip his t-shirt off. He tosses it on the floor followed quickly by his boxers. While he's still sitting up, Sharon straddles him and places a hand on the side of his face. Her other hand is guiding his erection into her. She's sinking down on him and staring in his eyes. He's filling up her body and her soul. It's almost too much for her. She closes her eyes as he pushes up into her.

Andy buries his face between her breasts as she begins to ride him slowly. She can feel the stubble on his face scraping her nipples and it makes her gasp with pleasure. She lifts herself almost entirely off him and hovers, with just his tip inside her, for as long as she can stand it then sinks back down with a groan.

"Fuck, do that again," he tells her.

She does it once more before slightly leaning back in his lap to change the angle. She moves her hands behind her, and rests her palms on the tops of his thighs. He's not able to thrust deeply, but he's certainly enjoying the view of her leaning back with her hair falling down around her shoulders, eyes closed and lips parted. He has never seen her look so beautiful.

When she slides her right hand down between his legs and strokes his balls he almost comes up off the bed. He reaches for her breasts, and she begins moving faster up and down on him. Moving one hand from her breast to her clit, he rubs her while she rides him. She sinks down and he pushes up and it's all over too quickly, but they are both thoroughly satisfied and exhausted.

She lays on top of him as he fully reclines back into the mattress and rests his head on the pillow. She's half laying/half sitting on him while he's still inside her and stroking her back. She thinks she could actually go to sleep in this position.

He has to push her disheveled hair out of his way in order to place a kiss on top of her head. "Sharon, I have to tell you this night has been one of the best nights of my life and I don't want it to end."

Propping her chin on his chest, she studies his sincere face and says, "I feel the same way. I'm scared because I haven't done this in so long, but I refuse to be ruled by fear. I want this. I want you in my life. We can make this work."

"Yes we can," he says in agreement. Hearing her words wash over him makes him feel as if a huge weight has been lifted from him. All he wants is a chance. He's very aware that he almost scared her away with his talk of love.

The room is silent as they're each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Far off in the distance, a train whistle blows. Each breath, each sigh, each caress feels magnified and suspended in this room, in this bed, in this moment.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks.

In an effort to keep it light he says, "Oh, I was just wondering what you must have been like at 13."

"My nose was buried in a book most of the time," she says.

"Let me guess. It was a rulebook."

"Ha, Ha very funny," she says as she playfully slaps his chest and rolls off him to go to the bathroom.

He stares at the ceiling and ponders how wrong he was about Rulebook Raydor all those years ago. If someone had told him then that she would end up in his bed, and his life, he would've never believed it. He's still not sure he believes it. Maybe this is all just a dream. If that's the case, he hopes to never wake up.

When she walks back into the room, he's reaching for his cell phone where he left it earlier on the bedside table.

"Who are you calling?" she asks.

"I'm not calling anybody. I'm gonna take a selfie of us."

"Did you turn into a 13-year-old when I was in the bathroom?" she asks.

"Grown men can enjoy selfies too you know. Before you get back in bed would you go grab that pizza out of the kitchen?"

"No, we're not eating cold pizza in bed, and no you're not taking a selfie of us."

"We're not actually gonna eat the pizza. We'll just pose with it and send the picture to Provenza. Too bad we won't get to see his face when he opens the attachment."

"Andy, you know he won't be able to open the attachment. He's still trying to figure out how to watch cat videos on **THE** You Tube."

"Yeah, you're right. Can we at least take a picture for a souvenir?"

"I think you have more than enough souvenirs. Put the phone down or I'm not getting back in bed."

"Okay, but you're no fun. I might not invite you to my next sleep over."

"Well, it won't be much of a sleep over with just you and your hand now will it?"

She's smirking at him as she climbs back into bed and turns her back to him. He spoons up behind her and whispers in her ear, "This is the sleeping part of the sleep over."

"When are we going to get to the eating part? I'm still hungry."

"I promise you, I'll make you a faken free omelet when we wake up."

"No mushrooms either."

"Right, no mushrooms either now good night."

"Good night and sweet dreams Andy."


	8. Sunday Morning Coming Down

At some point in the night they've switched places. Sharon wakes pressed into Andy's bare back with her arm draped over his waist and their legs tangled together in the covers. She can feel him breathing deeply in his sleep. Thank God it's Sunday morning and they don't have to be anywhere. She'd love to go back to sleep, but she also wants to savor this quiet moment. There was too much activity last night for her to really notice his bedroom. Thankfully, she doesn't see any duck lamps. He has tasteful bedside lamps that match the curtains. There's no TV, but he has several pictures of family members hanging on the walls. Are they laying under a Dodger's bedspread? It's hard to tell with the small amount of light filtering through the curtains. She'll have to check that out later.

Andy is starting to stir. He rolls over and opens his eyes. He looks confused for just a moment then his eyes light up. He gives her a huge smile which makes the corners of his eyes crinkle in that way that makes her heart flutter. "Good morning little Miss Prim and Proper."

"Good morning to you, you little thug. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, but I'm sore as hell. You're probably going to need to give me a thorough massage after while," he tells her.

"It will be my pleasure, but first I want breakfast. No wait, first I want a bath," she says.

"Fine, but ya gotta give me a minute in the bathroom first," he tells her before placing a quick kiss on her shoulder and getting out of bed.

The second he is out of sight she turns on the bedside lamp and examines the bedspread more closely. Yep, there's tiny bats and baseballs and the Dodger logo embellishing the bedspread. _Apparently, he really is a 13-year-old,_ she thinks to herself. _I've never slept under a baseball bedspread before. I've never slept with Lt. Andy Flynn before. I've never walked around with no panties in public before. Wow, this has been a very eventful 12 hours with next to no sleep. Oh well, I have the rest of my life to sleep,_ she thinks.

She's laughing to herself when Andy walks back into the bedroom. "What's so funny?" he asks her.

"Your bedspread is funny."

"My bedspread is awesome, and it matches my shower curtain in case you didn't notice."

She's laughing so hard she has to make an effort not to snort.

"I still don't know what's so funny."

"Never mind. I'm going to soak a little bit while you're preparing a fabulous breakfast for me," she says.

"There's clean t-shirts in the dresser so just help yourself when you get out of the tub. I wouldn't want you to have to wear your dirty clothes from yesterday," he says with a smirk. "On second thought, you don't have to wear anything at all."

"You're incorrigible," she tells him on her way to the bathroom.

"So I've been told," he replies.

A hot bath hits the spot for her, and she's even able to find some bath beads in one of the bathroom drawers. She's so relaxed she could almost fall asleep in the tub. She could kick herself for not packing an overnight bag, but she didn't want to seem too obvious when she left her condo yesterday.

Andy is very busy in the kitchen preparing a couple of omelets, bagels, fruit and coffee. It's a beautiful morning, and he decides they'll eat on the back porch just off the kitchen. He has worked hard on his yard and is anxious to show it off. Sharon walks into the room as he's pouring his first cup of coffee. He spills a little of the hot coffee on his hand when he sees her wearing one of his old Dodger t-shirts. Her face is clean and makeup free, her hair is slightly damp and her skin is a little pink from the hot bath. He can't help but stare. She looks delicious, and smells like honeysuckle. He could forget breakfast all together and just take her back to bed, but he knows she's starving so he settles for a good morning kiss before leading her outside.

With no small amount of flourish, he pulls her chair out for her; however, she's too busy gaping at the scene before her to see what he's doing. There's a small bistro table set beautifully with a tablecloth, a couple of candles, champagne flutes full of orange juice and fresh roses in a Mason jar on the center of the table.

"Andy, this is wonderful."

"Well," he says, "I wanted you to know I do have a sense of occasion." He winks at her and she practically flies into his arms. Hugging him tightly, she whispers "I love you" in his ear.

"Sharon, you're so special. You do so much for other people, and it's about time you let me pamper you."

She's relieved there seems to be no need to acknowledge her use of the L word. The tense anxiety that sometimes seems to surround them is gone. "Where did you get fresh flowers?" she asks as she takes her seat.

"Right over there," he says pointing to the corner of the yard.

She hasn't really noticed the yard before now. It's beautiful with lush flowers, a bird bath, a small arbor and a huge swing set in the middle of the yard. Looking at the swings makes her feel a little wobbly inside. She remembers pushing her own kids on swings, and in her memories it's always just the three of them. Jack was never around. Obviously, Andy is trying hard to be a good family man with a swing set in his yard for Nicole's stepsons to enjoy.

She pictures Andy pushing two laughing little boys in the swings. It's odd, but certainly not impossible for her to imagine him like that. She has seen him in scary situations with guns, knives, blood and dead bodies. She has seen him in sexy situations in a restaurant, in his bed, kneeling on his kitchen floor and right now looking at her with love over a cup of coffee. Finally, she's seeing him for who he really is: the man she loves.

 **The End**

Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, following and adding this story to your favorites. It's my dream that this story is exactly what we will see on our screens when the season resumes in November. RockinRobinB deserves big props for helping to make this much better than it would have been if left to my own devices.


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